Terence Conran’s restaurants first impressed, then suffered a long period where one associated them with 2-for-1 offers in the Sunday Times. It happens to a lot of the big name restaurant venues that grow too big, too fast. But Conran has abandoned his empire, to return to his roots — simple, fine dining, featuring his signature designs from the kitchen layout to the salt and pepper shakers.
Lutyens is one of the newer, prized possessions. Just two years old, it occupies a building with its own pedigree. Number 85 Fleet Street, was the Reuters’ first home, with other recognizable newspapers as its neighbors. The building also housed a debating society. Little wonder it attracted journalists.
And now, as Lutyens, it attracts mostly bankers for business lunches and dinners, with a sprinkling of casual diners and even the odd journalist…so long as someone else is paying.
The bar (above) is a good meeting place with an informal vibe and a charcuterie. But it’s the dining room menu that instantly drew me and my companion, a fellow foodie, in for its seasonal dishes and a few items not often seen, like a side of roasted onions. But, we were quickly slapped down by a waiter who told us AFTER we’d chosen our mains, that the pan-fried langoustines I was lusting for were not available due to a supplier shortage. So I thought the gazpacho, from the ‘menu compris’ sounded like a lovely, summery starter. Ah, but the chef is very strict, and won’t mix and match items from different menu’s, we were told.
We settled on the artichoke salad and Suisse soufflé for our first dishes. The soufflé was light as a feather, and surrounded by enough melted Gruyere to send my companion to a cardiologist. The artichokes, I’m afraid, were the type that made you wonder if they didn’t come from a tin, since the vinegar was enough to leave your lips in a permanent pucker.
Shellfish is what Lutyens seems to do best. A plate of scallops with pimiento salsa was a success and inspired order envy among us. And the spinach was sublime, with just a hint of nutmeg and that not-too-much, not-too-little bit of olive oil.
We skipped desserts in favor of a stroll downstairs, where much of the building’s historical feel resides, alongside the wine cellar, a private club, and a few meeting rooms.
We desperately wanted to love Lutyens. The staff was notably warm, friendly, and hospitable; our water glasses never empty. And to be fair, we did like it, but for a place like this to excel, the chef, and his suppliers, need to step up a bit. If you’re near St. Paul’s, Temple, or Chancery Lane and have a hankering for crustacea, Lutyens is a safe bet.
